


Fen'Harel's Bride

by Jiggle_Physics



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: AU, Angst, But I fix it, Dragon Age Spoilers, Everything is the Same, F/M, Fen'Harel - Freeform, Graphic Scenes, Happy Ending, Pregnancy, Solas is Fen'Harel, Time Travel, Young Solas, because fuck the game, bit of a bastard, but alas we love him so, it tore my heart out, sin - Freeform, so yes this is an au, will add more tags, will become mature later in the story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2017-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6193738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiggle_Physics/pseuds/Jiggle_Physics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a pregnant Lavellan is once again snatched back through time into the years when gods roam the world she has to desperately find a way back. But how to do it while under the house and scrutiny of her childrens' now feared ,and future apostate, father? Fen'Harel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Light

**Author's Note:**

> I have no beta so please be kind with my mistakes, criticism is always welcomed.

It was so sudden and frantic she hadn’t known what could possibly go wrong. One moment the Inquisitor was leaning over the table with a mind buzzing. The breach had been closed but there was still work to be done so much work, including remaining rifts. Cullen had been berating over a nobleman that had come to bash against Lorelai's name as recompense for destroying the lyrium trade. Josephine had suggested whispers of an affair to end the bubbling, Liliana thought she should be open to murder despite it not being murder, Cullen thought to parade a few guards in the streets to show the power. The she-elf couldn't think, her mind was fogged from the loss of her lover. 

"I want you to know, what we had, was real." Solas' voice rang in her mind. 

A sweep of dizziness invaded her senses before she had any chance to from falling into the embrace of darkness. The last sound being of Cullen calling her name and the press of cold metal against her cheek. 

It wasn't dark here, she knew this world. The shades of green, the way everything seemed to almost breathe in her wake, or how various statues were floating upon nothing but shreds of rock. The fade, cold, dark and suffocating. She needed to get out, she needed to go home back to Skyhold where her world wasn't crumbling. Where the shreds of her mind could be held together, her world that was shriveling up with his absence. 

"Lorelai." A voice, his voice washing over her and stealing all doubt, all pain. 

He stood proud, regal almost god-like in his statue. Taking a hesitant step forward she had to fight to urge to run, launch herself into his arms and sob. Blue eyes that searched dived into her very being, familiar features, a rolling voice, his hands behind his back observing her. Everything was so right as she met him halfway, so easy, she could breathe. Too easy. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion as the vision dulled only minutely, a lie. 

"I don't take to people other's in my mind much less a demon." The woman snarled, pushing him away. 

Solas looked shocked for a moment, " Vehenan, what are you talking about? It's me."

"Liar." The mark on her hand flaring up violently to protect her from the imposter. 

It took only a moment before the Fade violently forced the creature to change into its original form. A desire demon. Loralie wanted to scream, kick, kill. The elf reacted before she had time to comprehend what was happening before she was twisting the form. Magic flaring up to slaughter the being with prejudice. The scream only filled her with a satisfaction of seeing Solas buckle under the weight of her power. 

As the ilk crumbled, the pain was sharp in her. Blinding. The fade spilled away, gone was the floating rocks, instead, the grass was plush under her feet. Cold air, crisp, clean filling her lungs. Emerald Graves. Her sky was bright and blue, it was wonderful. It was living. Arms snaked around her waist, lean and corded muscle pressed against her, a chin resting on her shoulder. 

" You should be careful where you wander." She felt the voice through her back, wanting nothing more than to curl here with him on the blades of green. 

" I can take care of myself." He chuckled, a small snort at the end of it. 

How long did she practice with him in manners of dream walking? How many times did he press her down into the grass, fingers through her ivory hair with heat boiling in her veins? 

"I know better than any. I still wish for you to not tread off anywhere." His nose pressed into her neck. 

“Can we stay here?” Her question was answered with a chuckle. 

“I would give the world to have you in my arms again, but alas. You must wake up.” 

Lorelai sat up trying to gasp for air, something was pressing down on her chest. Cole bolted upright at her sudden movement and off her chest where he’d rest his head. 

“You’re awake. We were so worried, twisting, sick, blind. Maker, please let her be alright. My fault, pushing so hard, so constantly. I’m sorry. Bright, like a beacon. Strong and powerful yet delicate, so small and fragile.” Cole was frantic to blur the words but calmed with a simple touch to his face. 

“Cole it’s alright. I’m alright.” He leaned into the hand on his face, a sisterly touch of love and protection, “See?”

Only a moment of peace was given before her doors flew open and companions flooded in. It was nothing but questions of her health and her smile from how concerned everyone was, Josephine blamed herself, as did Cullen and Lillianna, stating how they pushed her too hard after the closing of the Breach. After many long moments of reassurance, Dorian sat on her left side, a hand over her’s. 

“ Doctor’s orders for you to stay in bed for a few days.” Loralai scoffed at such a notion, “Lori, you were out for two days. It’s not every day someone faints into Cullen’s arms for his attention but you should rethink your flirting tactics.”

The laughter was soft and worried, “Two days? Truly? Have the healers found anything?”

Everyone seemed to fidget nervously, “Well?”

Her voice was impatience, matching the temper that boiled under her skin so often, the mark flaring up with her emotions. Varric looked around at everyone’s apprehension. 

“You’re um...well…” Cullen stumbled before being cut off. 

“My dear, it seems you will be taking an absence from your pursuits unless it is beyond a dire situation.” The ivory haired woman glared at Viviane with utter distaste, “ You would be best here in your condition. After all, parading about after a dragon is hardly the work of a woman with child.”  
The world froze. Time, magic, everything ceased. Even her breathing, it was impossible for her to register everything as her hands trembled to press against her lower belly. Cole’s words buzzed in her ears, he was ‘seeing’ the baby. Their- her - baby. She was to have a child, someone to hold and cradle, something so delicate and pure within the blood-stained world. 

“Awe, fear, and love. Floating farther from shore, yet not drowning. Creators preserve me. Please keep the babe safe.” Everyone shifted awkwardly, “I’m sorry...you were very loud.”

“It...It’s a-alright Cole…” She was trembling. 

Solas. How could Solas know, she didn’t know how to tell him. In her dreams, it was either a demon or her memory conjuring the form and voice. Would he even want to know of the child? Why would he? If he left her what would he do for their child? Would it matter? She felt dizzy again, a cool cloth pressed to her forehead from her ever-steady friend, Dorian. 

“Alright, show's over. Let her be.” Varric ushered all but Cole who wouldn’t be from her side and Dorian who was having her lay back against the pillows to ease her slight panic.

She sat there, nodding every once in a while to the questions of Dorian about what wood, pillowing and such about a cradle that Blackwall would be smithing, or if she’d want a certain color. Loralai couldn’t keep her hands off her stomach, there wasn’t a bulge, nothing to cup her hands about, nothing to show but everything for her. A baby was safely tucked away in her body, keeping a secret safe. No one could know, not yet. Not until she couldn’t hide it. In truth, she didn’t want to hide anything but she knew better. Calling that she was carrying would make her a target for assassins and worse nobles against her. The child would be in danger, the Inquisitor would rather let the world burn before she saw harm to the babe. 

“Loralai.” Her thoughts were broken by the Tevinter's face, “It’ll be alright. We’ll get through this, all of us are here.”  
She grinned, “Where would I be without my clan huh?”

The feeling of worry didn’t shake her but it was lessened at the promise. Yes, her friends would protect her. They had all proven again and again that point. They had become her clan.


	2. The Present

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lorelai meets the Present

Lorelai tried to settle into her Dragon Maw Throne for judgement, tried. Her hips were sore and she was getting waves of nausea so easily she was almost angry at the fact. This was going to be a long and grueling process, she could already tell as the rigid bone was doing nothing for her aching. Cassandra had already seen to having another seating brought in for her but it would be at the least a week before the replacement would grace the halls of Skyhold. The best anyone could do was try and mold cushions to try and alleviate the pain. 

“The Serah Marius, Orlais has sent him here on terms of murder and rape of Elvhen men and women.” Her blood was set alight at such a crime and lavender eyes narrowed on him, the man didn’t tremble at the imposing figure that she could conjure on a simple whim. 

“Proof of these charges?” She wanted the man sentenced but it was due to court to offer evidence. 

“He confessed to these crimes, gloated is the word used.” Josephine offered and watched the woman stand, gently but stand. 

“Gloat? You see these acts as a trophy or prize.” The man grinned toothily at her and explained how all Elvhen were animals that were to be feasted upon at men’s whim. 

“Animals? Very well. Send him to the dungeons and make sure our inmates know of his many achievements.” The gathering shuddered, they’d heard tales of what waited in the Inquisitor's prison. 

Some said it was a fate worse than death, the blade was far more merciful as even the men in the cells tolerated much less than the woman herself. The man would be mutilated and killed before the week’s end if not sooner, Lorelai wondered if his grin would be so smug when he was dealt the same treatment he’d given all his victims. This was the last of her meetings as she went to walk down the stairs fighting the dizziness that it caused, a sinewy arm had offered support that she took in thanks. Cole. The man? Spirit? She’d not known what he was now being more man than spirit. Had become her shadow since the knowledge of her condition had risen within her inner circle. She was thankful for the help as he always arrived when she needed him to the most, a drink she’d be craving, a sweet, even being her leaning post in moments like these.

She was desperately attempting to keep the baby a secret but the child was making it difficult. The little one still cradled between her hips was invisible unless someone were to look at her with trained eyes was looking for a sign. What was strenuous was the constant sickness or sore body, she’d asked the healers who comforted her by explaining that yes it was normal especially when a mage was involved. They thought it to be doubled considering both parents were mages. 

“It will get easier as the light brightens.” Cole’s voice was a comfort in her ear, she nodded and clenched to him until the spell had passed, she stood straight and confident the temporary moment looking as if she’d been discussing something with him. 

“Gods I hope. Making such a fuss, you take after me.” She rubbed a thumb across her abdomen before moving on. 

She had more plans to go over with her council, Josephine was trying to arrange all of the meetings soon so that her secret would be kept that and away from the nobles. Liliana had assured her friend that her ears would hear even the most silent of accusations and take care of it. Cullen was requesting to double the guard on account of when Lorelai couldn’t hide it she needed to be protected. They meant best and she was thankful for it but she had begun to feel as if they were suffocating her. All atop of how she’d find Solas. He needed to know. 

The day went by in a haze and soon she found herself in her room, pinching the bridge of her nose as letters blurred on the paper she was writing. Shemlen and their politics, it was annoying to sound so passive and placating on the parchment. She’d do this regardless because it helped. It strengthened her resources and choked the carta more tightly making the lyrium harder to trade thus stopping the trade without her leaving the safety of Skyhold. 

The sun was low and warmed her skin in the most pleasant of ways, she got up from the mess that was her desk and slowly navigated to her bed. It wouldn’t kill her to sleep. Just a nap. Something to refresh her after such a long day, just a nap. Lorelai told herself taking off the shoes and curling on the bed as the warmth beat down on her skin chasing the brisk mountain air. It was perfect. 

She woke in the fade easily. Idly she wondered if there was a chance of her finding a spirit, someone that could help her find Solas or even send him a message. She wouldn’t leave her room, it was dangerous to wander and she’d the baby to think about too. Instead, she waited, wishing, willing for something to find her here. Her wanting wasn’t for nothing. The creature that stepped from the wind was encased in dark greens and browns. 

The spirit resembled a woman, slanted eyes wrapped in a drapery and a gentle smile on her face. Lorelai felt at ease, the mark on her hand was calm and her senses weren’t spiraling out of control. The woman came to her side and sat near her, not close enough to startle but close enough to be friends. 

“You called to me?” Her voice was a low tone that reminded her of wood chimes. 

“Y-yes. I...I need help. You see i’m in a si-” The spirit raised her hand with a smile. 

“I know what’s wrong. I’m sorry for your loss, little one and I will try to help find your lover.” Lorelai sighed in relief at the acceptance, “What was he like?”

She talked about him, about his dislike for tea and the way his nose scrunched, or the scar on his forehead, the way his fingers were ever delicate when touching his books, the sweet cakes from Orlais that he loved and the way he would lazily mutter about how beautiful she was in a deep voice that caused her to fall into the fade within his arms. The Spirit giggled at the affection in her voice and love in her eyes that made it so much easier to find her other half. For as much love as she had for him then it would surely make a longing that would split the fade. 

“When I find him,” when not if, “what would you like me to say? I cannot sway him to return but I may try and help him see reason.”

“I don’t know what to say...tell him about his child? I think that would be best.” Lorelai fiddled with her hands in her lap.

“It will be done sweet one. Now go, find somewhere more sweet for a mother.” The spirit placed some stray hair from the she-elf’s face and walked to the balcony. 

“Wait. What’s your name?” 

“Min’ver.” With that small smile, she had gone into a wisp off the stone. 

The Inquisitor focused and brought to her the image of the Emerald Graves, the statue of Fen’Harel towering over the green made her sigh in content. She crawled between the wolf’s paws and settled against the cold stone, the chill was a welcomed tingling sensation to her skin. She hoped Min’ver was right and could find Solas.


	3. Lullaby

Fen’harel leaned over the map trying to gauge what his lover was doing. Her movements had been so erratic as of late, it was confusing him. Lorelai had always been a creature of prioritizing, always putting people before herself and going out of her way to make sure that others were more comfortable than her. Even if it meant her traveling to foreign lands to discuss treaties. But, now? Now she wasn’t leaving Skyhold, the representatives were coming to her at the behest of Josephine, his spies also were watching her carefully. Was she sick?

That was the only thing he could think of and part of him felt guilty if he were there it would be an easy fix. Even more confusing was that she’d gone to the healers and yet they hadn’t given her anything but herbal tea. He felt the urge to wander into the fade, find her even pretending to be a memory and find her. Question her on what was wrong, ask her if she was alright, even hear her speak of her day. He missed her desperately but he refused to find her, it would destroy him. He would walk back with the sorrow he rightfully deserved, he would tell her everything all of it. He’d tell her that it was his name he made a jest of. 

He would give her control of his fate. Anything if only to hear her speak his name in reverence or fury he didn’t care. An elf, slender and quiet would have shocked him if he was a mere Elvhen, to try and slink up on a god much more a wolf would be a reckless move. His ear raised in her direction as she placed a letter before him. It was a report of the movements copied from their political representatives very desk. He nodded at the elf and she faded from sight. 

The letter was peculiar, the shift in trade was made for three boxes of small cakes from Orlais, frozen elfroot leaves from Emprise Du Lion, medicine, and the request of a different healer from a dalish clan. Odd that it was made the top priority, then notes from Vivienne calling for a tailor with strict orders of ‘delicate, silken threads of lightest breath in dark blue hues and golds. There were no orders of a celebration, why would Lorelai need new clothes? With the sweets? Elfroot eased an ache and healed but frozen meant she’d chew on it meaning the ache was bruising. What had she done?

The ripple in the air about him was sudden, sharp, and almost chaotic. He turned seeing a spirit standing proudly behind him and yet smugly. If she could she’d lean against the wall, there was an air of certainty about her. He knew this spirit she’d been an acquaintance of his when she still breathed the air of the living coil. 

“Min’ver, how nice of you to see me.” His voice was calm and collected despite the hidden sarcasm. 

“You’ve made the veil quite thin Fen’harel, it’s easier to find you wallowing in your sorrow. Not much seems to have changed in the many years save for the pet.” That got his attention as a growl unbidden tore from his throat as he turned to the spirit, “Oh did I touch a sore spot?”

He took a deep breath in an attempt to cool his temper, “ You wouldn’t be here unless you wanted something. What is it?”

“So cold, could I not wish to help you stamp the shemlen under your heel like insects?” His eyes turned a steel grey and she raised her hands, “Alright, alright. No need to be hostile especially with news like mine, but of course, I want something in return.”

“No.” He knew the price of her information, her desire to return to the mortal coil was insatiable she needed a body to feed upon and then fill the void their soul left in their body. 

“Not even for Lorelai? I’m calculated wolf but to leave my mate and then ignore her cries of pain and sorrow across the fade? Don’t tell me you hear her at night it would be such a lie that none would believe. And here I come with words from her own mouth.” He spun around, his armor soundless and the wolf’s fur swaying with the motion. 

“You spoke with her?”

“She called to me, how could I deny her the very thing she needed the most?” Solas feared for his love, Min’ver was a spirit of the present not compassion and wouldn’t pause to strike a deal with anyone who could possibly give her a foot in the world, “Devastated, broken hearted...changing.”

“What do you mean changing?” His voice was cautious and her grin vicious and almost triumphant. 

“If only we had a deal.” She sighed in false melancholy, he didn’t want to show her how she was getting to him. 

His Lorelai was sick? Changing? What had happened? Was it the mark that was changing and forcing her to be sick? His mind was spinning with so many possibilities that he was slightly befuddled. No. Min’ver could lie, and would lie, it might just be a passing illness that she was playing up to attack his emotions. His eyes narrowed and he turned from her. 

“Leave with you lies and riddles, I’ve no use for them.” He heard a ‘tsk’ but he could feel the crackle of the fade as she began to meld away. 

“As you wish, Dread Wolf.”

~*~

Lorelai woke, her body lurching forward as she pulled a bucket to her side and rolled over. Her body flushed in a sudden heat and moments later her throat burned with the aftermath of retching. She felt clammy, her skin slick with sweat and temperature so hot it rivaled the fire. Fire? After the passing uneasiness, she was able to realize what had happened. In her walkings through her memory of the Emerald Graves, hours had passed it looked late, the having set hours ago with her balcony doors closed. Setting the bucket away from her face she sighed pressing her head into her hands and taking soothing breaths. 

She glanced over at the slight steam that rose from behind a privacy shield, a bath? With curiosity she walked over already stripping out of her too hot clothes, it was a bath. Her hand skimmed the surface taking joy in the semi-warm water smelling of fresh cut cedar and lavender. Stepping in caused a shiver of satisfaction to run up her spine, sitting down she let loose her braided hair. The ivory color spilled across the water floating like snow on a river’s surface. 

She tugged at the locks, it had grown long since her vhen’an leaving her, what was at her mid back now tumbled to her waist in waves. The Inquisitor sank to her nose into the water taking the scent letting it soothe her. Her hands splayed on her abdomen feeling the ‘light’ as Cole had taken to calling the child. A mage. She could tell with the way her own mana pulsed as she reached out for the flickering inside her own body. The warmth on her fingertips made her smile. She was with child. Her own baby and the thought was still as giddy inducing as it was the first time she learned of the little light. 

She was noticing as the days passed how her stomach was growing. Weeks ago there had been nothing to see but now she was able to place a hand over a small rounding in the valley of her hand. Even if Leliana said that she had to look for the bump it didn’t matter. Scared was too light a word for what she felt but the terror was tempered with the swelling affection she felt every day. 

Her friends helped with her excitement, Dorian had Bull carrying mahogany logs to Blackwall who had already carved six cribs in different styles. One rocked the other was stationary, one was big with a gate to carry into toddler years, another was molded into a sloping valley that cradled a baby, one had light wood, the other had engravings and was stationary. She couldn’t decide between a rocking one and toddler one. Dorian had told Blackwall to make another set of both of them and engrave them with some Dalish characters he’d seen and was making orders for matching cushions, blankets ,and pillows. 

Vivienne was ordering new fabrics and tailors to make maternity clothes for her as she grew, they were supposed to breathe as if she were wrapped in air. The First Enchanter had ever put to her council that she should stop wearing her shoes in place for Elvhen wrappings as they were to be easier on her feet. Trying to make her the most comfortable. 

Cullen had doubled the guard, each recruit being pushed to their limits so they’d be ready to defend the heavily pregnant Inquisitor and then, in turn her child. Josephine was already looking into the best midwives in Thedas to prepare for the birth and help with her symptoms. She hoped they’d be sooner than later in her pregnancy, she wouldn’t mind the lack of vomiting and pain would be nice. If not she would push through it for her child. 

She dunked her head back and let the water flow over her hair then came up with a slow breath and proceeded to wash her long hair. Her fingers trailing through her hair, she looked at the back of her hand and was always shocked at the lack of vallas’lin on her skin. It had been a familiar inky black but now was gone on Solas’ behalf having taken the markings that made her a slave. Her child would be born markless and stay that way. The Dalish may have turned away the knowledge but she embraced it. So much of it had been lost and she’d never seen why she shouldn’t trust Solas’ knowledge as she’d never seen a fade walker before. It made sense to mark you slaves with your symbol. No, no her beloved would never bare such a mark. 

Her hair smelled of flowers on the summer breeze and skin like sun she only left the bath when the water had become cold. She was so unsure of what she could and couldn’t do, she never paid much mind the pregnant women in The Lavellan Clan. They were with the midwives and she had no real need to question them, she’d never planned on even beginning a family instead was content to be outcasted. 

Ironic how being the anomaly of her clan saved her life, if she hadn’t fled to the statue of a towering wolf as a child and hid between its paws or spoke to the stone as if he could hear her then she’d have been with the clan that had died. It made her laugh sometimes at how Fen’Harel, the trickster god, had saved her from rocks being thrown at her. Yet, when she fled to the sight of her wolf the pursuers would slow as a child she’d climb until her body was safe high atop his head and yelled at how she’d curse them by calling to Fen’Harel. That usually scared off anyone who’d hurt her, as she grew the ritual to the wolf had given her a new name. Instead of an outsider they called her his bride or bitch if they were feeling mouthy. 

Her child would never know such cruelty raised here amongst those who cared for them so deeply without even being born. She sat down on the bed after drying off and began to brush her hair with a soft humming behind each stroke of the brush. The tune was old, playing on the edges on her memory of golden hair and violet eyes. She’d braided the locks from her face, she should go to the kitchens. The way there was slow and cool much to her delight. The robe she’d pulled on was loose and flowing as she moved. 

The halls were quiet save for the scampering of a rat? Something it’s size, thankfully not a spider she hated spiders. It was late but the kitchen was almost always up. She crept into the kitchen, passing the rotunda without pausing, and saw one of the elven kitchen maids sleeping before the fire her entire body leaned on a broom she used to prop herself up. The Inquisitor made sure to be silent as she moved about the room picking up whatever struck her nose’s fancy. The plate was rather large but she justified herself by saying she was eating for two. 

Instead of going back to her room her feet took her into the rotunda, it felt so hollow even with the beautiful murals adorning the walls. The scent of parchment, ink and elfroot had faded to memory, she sat in the chair and her food on the desk. She was lethargic in eating her food despite Solas not being here there was still a familiarity that caused a calm over her. 

“You have a baby ,Solas. I do not yet know if they are boy or girl but I do know that they’re a mage. The healers told me that all the aches are from the fade bending and coursing through me now. I’ll be more thankful when the midwife arrives, she might be able to brew me something to stop the dizziness.” Her voice slightly echoed in the room but only created a soft sound to anyone else, she was whispering. 

Lorelai only stayed to eat then went back to her room, it was late and despite the nap she still needed sleep. Now clean, fed and stripped of her clothes she slid into the bed letting the warmth encompass her soothing her body with its heat. Her hand rested atop her abdomen as wolves began to howl. 

‘They’ve come to sing us a lullaby.’


	4. Deal

Weeks passed with no word from the spirit she’d met, the wolves sang for her at night. What some saw as chilling she found it comforting, it made her sleep better. Her council was trying to keep her out of sight as much as possible, she had grown in the last few weeks. Her baby couldn’t be hidden in the dip of her hand anymore as if she’d eaten too much food and now her belly curved out in a noticeable orb shape. It was risky for her seen, often time Cole was bringing her food that she didn’t complain about. Her feet were swollen and sore some days but she was becoming restless with nothing to do but pace back and forth. 

It was night, there wouldn’t be anyone up, she had reasoned it would be okay to walk around for just a little bit. She slipped on her robe, a deep blue swooping fabric made for her comfort. It had a loose golden clasp just under her bust with angel wing sleeves. Vivienne had been right, it was loose, easy to move in and yet was warm enough for her to be in just the fabric. She didn’t bother wrapping her feet, the long robe covered her feet and then some, she had to pick up the front to be able to walk. 

Lorelai was languid in her moving, her feet were aching but it wasn’t enough to make her want to sit down. It was nice to take a walk she needed the fresh air that wasn’t her room she longed to feel the grass and mud underfoot. It was reckless and stupid she realized that and promptly ignored the fact as her toes fell on stone steps and the promise of even this small freedom making her smile. 

The moment her foot touched ground she felt it, something was wrong. A shiver and tug at her palm caused a tremor. The fade was thin even with the breech closed there was always a chance at tears. The spike of fear that made her panic was when the familiar crackle and snarl of a rift. Her hand sparked up and she cried out in pain loudly enough to wake the barracks and Iron Bull who rushed out of the inn. His yell of ‘rift’ scrambled everyone into motion. It had opened in courtyard blinding in its light against the night sky. 

The demons poured into the court and Lorelai scrambled to get back enough to seal the rift. So focused on turning she didn’t notice the Terror demon before it was too late. Bull had yelled her name but she hadn’t heard as the claws sank into her back and fell into the rift. The spell on her lips burst in a vibrant color as she wrapped her body in the protection but something felt off, the spell was different with half her body in the Fade and other still touching the ground with her feet. 

She fell on her back ,knocking the wind out of her body, her head slammed against the hard unforgiving ground and caused her vision to blur but she could hear birds, smell flowers and feel the sun on her skin. The sound of birds was matched with bare feet? Other elves? She didn’t recall a clan coming to Skyhold, it was during the night when she fell had she passed out and slept the whole night? The voices were not those of her familiar friends, she still couldn’t see and her head throbbed in pain. 

She was lifted up into someone’s arms. Parchment, cloves, and summer rain invaded her senses. Sleep beckoned her with the temptation of blissful numbness, how could she refuse?

~*~

“What the hell just happened?!” Bull shouted the rift had ruptured after it dragged in Lorelai through. 

“I don’t know!” Dorian shouted just as angry, she had glowed a bright green and disappeared half in and out of the rift. 

Everyone was awake and now frantically rushing to the library on any chance that they could track her. Dorian had seen the effect before and hoped that she hadn’t time jumped...again. They had no idea where she’d gone or when and she was pregnant. No one could even begin to think what would happen to the baby. 

~*~

“MY LORD!” The shout was frantic and desperate as one of the kitchen maids from Skyhold ran into Solas’ rooms, “T-the Inquisitor she was walking outside, then something made the veil rip and she was dragged through!”His body was pulled taunt as he spun on his heel as he did a twinge pressed itself into the forefront of his mind. 

_The day had been boring in his home so he brought himself to stroll through the gardens when the space just in front of the elfroot crackled to life and split. A woman fell out bouncing against the ground painting the soil red with crimson as blood spilled from her back. He was curious of the form and only froze slightly when he noticed the woman was pregnant and smelled distinctly of him._

 _The mark on her was sparking with life was his own magic somehow lodged in her hand. He picked her up, slowly as to not injure her and walked to the healers. What puzzled him most wasn’t how the mark came to be on her, it was how much his scent was embedded into what seemed her very skin. He’d never met the woman in his life, he knew most the slaves but she had no marks. The mages were quick to stop her bleeding and mend her wounds, even quicker to tend to her swollen stomach. The moment a hand was placed near her the mark crackled to life, violent and raging. Protective. It took the four mages with shielded bodies to even come close to her._

_Her children were surprisingly unharmed, Fen’harel leaned against the wall with crossed arms curiosity brimming in his veins. It wasn’t every day a woman fell out of thin air much less pregnant._

Solas felt the air leave his lungs in a rush. She’d been pulled through time. Pulled through time and pregnant with his scent. No. No, no ,no. That wasn’t...no she couldn’t be but it easily explained the clothes, the food and her being kept away all made sense and he couldn’t breathe. The keen memory of the night before he pushed her away and the taste of wine against her lips, the feel of her lithe body under his fingers, her screams and bruises in the morning as the shape of his fingertips. He counted and pinched the bridge of his nose, four months since he left.

His spies couldn’t have told him about her, the Inquisition had been too careful in keeping her pregnancy a secret. He needed to find where she fell in, exactly and see if he couldn’t find a way to get her back. If she didn’t it would punch a hole in time, his children...children. More than one. He finally took a deep breath after his chest started hurting. He needed more resources than he had, he couldn’t simply return to the people he’d come to see as if friends. Could he? If he came with tides of a way to find her perhaps. This was going to be complicated. 

~*~

Lorelai sighed her arm felt stiff and head slightly sore but the bed she was laying on was warm, soft, she felt safe. In a flood everything came back, the demon, the rift, her baby. Her eyes snapped open and hands found her abdomen magic overflowing in a desperate attempt to reach out for the now familiar pulse. The swell of warmth made her sigh in relief the baby was okay. She was thankful for how oddly easy it was to pull on the magic that surrounded her almost as if breathing.

“I’m sorry ma u’lea, I’m so sorry. Mae lathan na.” Her tone was soft and loving solely for the baby, it took a moment for her to realize where she was. 

The air was the first thing that caught her mind, it was light and too easy to breathe and the magic in the air almost had a taste while it danced in the room. The room had plants growing on the walls, smelled of oak and crystal grace. The bed she was laying on felt like a soft as a feather, even her clothes had been changed. She wore a simple dress in a cream color that was warm, her feet had wrappings that felt cool easing the now nonexistent ache in them. It was a meaningful shuffle to catch her attention. 

What she saw took her breath away in a sweep of emotions, rage, fear, panic, love, pain and longing. She didn’t know exactly what she was seeing, it was Solas, his face but not. The man lounging against the wall had never missed a day in the sun, his brown hair was pulled from his face in dreads with either side of his hair shaved down, he didn’t have a scar on his forehead and she couldn’t see much of his freckles. Still the same eyes, curiosity and resolve in them. Lorelai had become a puzzle once again. 

He had said...something, “What?”

His tone had become irritated as he stalked forwards, it reminded her of a wolf forcing an instinct to make her scramble back on the bed to get away from him. It was both justification and in a way ridiculous, this was Solas, the man who hated tea and would love nothing more than to talk about the fade for hours if they had nothing to do. Yet; this wasn’t him at all and that terrified her more than anything. When he spoke she only shook her head trying to understand his language. 

Fen’harel grasped the hand that held the mark that didn’t even react, laying dormant across her palm. He traced a rune and spoke gently making her yelp, it was a loud ‘pop’ like when a rift closed. 

“Better?” she snatched back her hand back and stood away from him cradling her hand to her chest. 

“Who are you?” she felt magic form over her, a shield almost transparent formed around her as her back hit the wall. 

“I have many names. I am the one that stalks the fade.” Fingertips traced over the shield wall, a smug look on his face, “The wolf, Trickster.” her eyes widened as he stepped through the barrier without even a flinch, “But Fen’harel will do, little rabbit.”

Despite his title she growled, “I am no rabbit.” Loralai wanted to hit her head against the wall behind her, she growled at the Dread Wolf. The Trickster who sealed the gods away...Solas sealed the gods away. Solas was Fen’harel! Anger flushed through her, how dare he!? 

“Indeed. I would like to know how you came by this, you would have had to lay hands upon my orb and even then it should have killed you.” He kept his scent being so heavy on her to himself to be spoken of later.

“The orb was yours.” It sounded more like an accusation than a question, of course, it would be his. 

Was anything Solas said true? Had anything been real or had he just used her as a means to an end? Her hand rested on her belly, her attention not on Sol- Fen’harel - her thoughts spinning to her child. Perhaps it was best that when she found a way back that he not know of their baby. She didn’t feel the tears prick at her eyes or how the elf tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. She seemed to torture herself, what else could make her eyes water so without speaking?

“Tell me how you got it.” His voice was impatient and she wanted to laugh. 

So alike and so different than Solas, he’d carried the same tone when she drifted off but Fen’harel was so...young. Solas had more patience for her and she could use that. If he was younger then he’d be more apt to play on his instinct, he didn’t have the reserve of her lover yet. 

“If I told where would the fun be in that?” he raised an eyebrow and the grin that was on his face worried her it was predatory.

“Cheeky thing you are. If you won’t tell me then I suppose your name would be too much to ask?” She wanted to give him her name, but she had to be clever when dealing with him. 

“You should have to work for it.” The growl that rolled from his throat wasn’t threatening, good she had his attention, “Let’s play a game. I’ll tell you something but first you have to answer my own questions.”

Solas always enjoyed chess so she created the imaginary board. 

‘Reckless, hot-headed, impulsive.’ That’s how he had described himself in his youth, she prayed for him to be impulsive to take the bait. 

“ I won’t lie to you, but you know that.” She sweetened the deal, if he wanted enough she would have to stay here so he could ask and she knew for a fact that he had a library. 

White Pawn forwards.

“Clever and cheeky, that’s a dangerous thing to be in your situation, twins I hear. You wouldn’t want to risk them.” her hand slid over her belly but her eyes steeled, he wouldn’t hurt her or them...them. 

Her eyes widened, twins? His grin never left his face at her shock, “Now there’s a game changer hm?”

Black Pawn moves.

“D-do we have a deal.” Despite her knowledge she still attempted to create a barrier in a subconscious reaction to keep them safe but served only to trap her in a bubble with him. 

He chuckled, “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ma u’lea - my spark
> 
> Mae lathan na- mommy loves you
> 
> what a way to find out your lover is pregnant huh?


	5. Feasting with a wolf

The god she had learned to respect and fear above all was standing in front of her and she hadn’t screamed and managed to keep her face neutral. A small part of her celebrated. Lorelai had been told she had a terrible poker face when she played wicked grace, perhaps her luck was changing? She had to think of a question and the time of the barrier faded about her. Leaving her open.

“Am I a guest or prisoner?” Fen’harel smirked at the question, she was quick to her points.

“A guest.” He leaned away with arms crossing his chest adorned with what she could guess was wolf furs, “yet prisoner I think too. Guest may leave when they wish, our deal dictates you stay here so we can play this game. Prisoners are locked up and underfed, give to wolves and you won’t be.”

At least she was tucked away from the rest of this world, she could focus more on how to get home and less on being paraded or sent to death. He turned on his heel and seemed to saunter away the gait of confidence and arrogance, the mighty Dread Wolf thought himself tall. She idly wondered what he’d say if she told him that in years to come he’d dress like a ‘hobo’, wouldn’t be known to anyone as a god, ask a Qunari how they put on shirts, love her, leave her, and was going to be a father to the very children she was bearing. He’d laugh, call her insane and put her out on the streets, she decided walking behind him cautiously.

The moment she stepped from the healer’s room her breath left her very chest. It was...There wasn’t a word she could think of to describe the beauty of the temple she stepped foot into. The walls were of what could only be described as a river's stone. They were smoothed by years not tools and placed together with the care of an artist, the floor was made of tiles that gleamed with how well they were taken care of, the arches looked natural as if the stone wanted to be as it was. 

Everything breathed, the sun danced against the trees. The garden was...alive, everything was growing wild, free and in bloom. Trees she didn’t even know existed, one seemed to be made out of nothing but crystal with gold leaves, another looked black as the night without a moon with its leave just as dark, flowers seemed to call, beckon in sweet words and promises. She nearly stopped to give into the coaxing, she’d never seen anything to its likeness, not even the large ironbark tree that stood far above the garden wall stretching out to make shadows where the sun lazily cast them. A well sat near it to help nurture the plants. 

Fen’harel leaned against the stone with raised eyebrow, she was acting as if the very air about her was new that the trees had been raised before her eyes in some show of power. He took in all that she was and admitted his confusion to himself. She was shorter than most Elvhen, her ears less pointed that seemed ever-shifting taking in each sound that caressed them. She looked frail, breakable, he’d seen whelps with stronger bones in their bodies. She bore no vallaslin. And to him had no name. 

She was under no god yet was not a god herself but there was power. Tantalizing, vibrant and dangerous thrumming under her skin even past his mark on her hand. A mark that she had changed, twisted and molded his very magic to suit her needs whatever they were. He knew that she’d not touched his orb, it was too tightly locked away and none but he knew where it was. How had she come by it?

Pregnant. With children, that made him cautious and uneasy. He didn’t have much in ways of women if they were not a slave to him or one of the other gods that would never speak on exactly what it felt like to be a woman. Perhaps Mythal if he asked but she would tease him mercilessly about it for the next few decades. He did not need the dragon mother breathing fire at him for the questions that were deemed inappropriate. He wondered at what man would leave their mate’s side in her condition? Surely the said man would come look for her? Or was she alone to raise the children by herself? She was a mystery Fen’harel often enjoyed a stretch of his mentality. 

“Are you coming?” His voice made her tear violet eyes from leaves and petals with a red tinge to her face. 

She’d been so caught up in her curiosity she forgot of the trickster, “Of course.” 

They walked upstairs onto the barracks ,in a familiar path, something nagging at the back of her mind was screaming at her to pay attention, but to what? It was only when she stood at the top of the stairs facing out into the mountain range did she fully know where she was. Skyhold. She had fallen back countless years but stayed in place! The mountain looked nothing like she could recall. What was cold wind and stark stone had green and shining water that danced with the warming rays of the sun, the river was wider, more full, Lorelai would bet with Varric that even the fish would be different. 

She caught up and kept stride with Fen’harel after realizing he wasn’t stopping to let her marvel. She would be lying if she wasn’t eager to see how much had changed from now to her time. It all made sense on how Solas would know exactly where this place was. It had been his home before hers. It was different. Almost all of it was different, the inn still stood as an inn, and the stable looked the same from her distance. She was most restless to get to the rotunda, his room. She’d called it that for ages, did he paint? Were his painting different than those of her home?

Her children seemed as excited as she was, the build-up of magic around her proved that. The wasn’t electrical yet but it was charged, she put a hand a top her swollen stomach and continued her brisk pace. She nearly bounced as they approached the rotunda when they stepped in she was stunned. He still painted. And the paintings _moved_. Halla stamped their hooves as they flocked deeper into the painting, trees bent in a gust of wind that she couldn’t feel. What caught her eye was a wolf. It stood still as if a statue as she approached. She no longer had true fear of losing her host. She knew these halls as well as he. 

The wolf looked as if she could lead him from the stone with a gentle coaxing, so realistic she wondered if he was real or not. She was only a foot or two away when the wolf moved as if sensing her for the first time. It’s snow white fur reflecting false sunlight as it moved, it no longer towered over her like a grand being instead rested in front of her. Head on its paws staring up at her with gentle eyes, the look almost lonely. She wanted to reassure it, as ridiculous as it sounded, wanted to make the hurt go away. 

She finally turned away, glancing up to see the library still towering above them. It wasn’t hard to find the Dread Wolf, he hadn’t gone farther than the door. 

“The paintings. They’re beautiful.” ‘Why did you stop painting them like that?’ she wanted to ask but held her tongue, if she were ever to tell him of their fates it shouldn’t be so soon. 

“Sometimes. I’ll wash away them before the week is over, there is always room for another story.” He didn’t want to give into the pride that was being stroked at by the comment. 

“Pity. Where are we going exactly? You never said.” He smirked. 

“No, I didn’t, did I?” She frowned at the look and the thought came unbidden to her mind ‘Ass.’, “What? Do you fear I might eat you alive?”

“I fear you overthink your poweress.” a slave had gasped at the proclamation and waited with baited breath to see the Dread Wolf’s fury that never came. 

He laughed, not a chuckle but laughter that was warm, rich, and burst in her mouth like the cakes that he enjoyed at the Winter Palace. He would have been furious if not for the look on her face, she looked like rebellion made form, testing her limits and daring him. Quite the creature. 

“I would think the healers wouldn’t mind their tending beds back, you’ll need a room of your own.” The woman grew ever more a curiosity each passing second he didn’t want her with the slaves that would be too dangerous in his mind, she made a sound of recognition in the back of her throat before moving past him. 

The Great Hall, it’s likeness would never be the same. White marble with gold accents. The throne. Pure gold standing tall, proud, imposing even if wolf pelts were draped over it. She thought it amusing for a wolf like him to have so many pelts of his own. He had lead her to a familiar door. She walked the nondecaying steps to her own room, it was beautiful. Everything looked as if it had been created only yesterday, the floor had a large tailored rug of forest greens, the bed rose with a canopy atop it, blooming wisteria hung from a corner of the room and she reveled in its scent. 

“I’ll expect you for dinner. We’ve still a game to play.”

“I’ve nothing to wear.” she protested and saw a familiar gleam in his eyes, “No. Before you say it I will not wear anything but my own skin.”

Fen’harel looked shocked at how she had known what he was to tease about, “Fine, ruin the fun. The slaves already set you out some clothes.” 

When she searched through the closet he left. She began to notice small things about the room, a bath that seemed to bubble from no water source made her smile. She took her time to clean the smell of herbs from her body and wash her hair. Lorelai hadn’t heard the door open or close during her humming and yelped when she stepped out of her bath to see a young girl. 

“By the gods what are you doing here!?” The girl jumped slightly in return and the elvhen woman had to remind herself that these were not elves paid for their service, these were slaves, “I-i’m sorry I yelled at you, you just startled me.”

“Master sent me in case you needed help dressing, I’m Eslina.” The girl’s voice was low and shy making Lorelai feel all the worse, somehow more so when she wouldn’t look at her in the eyes.

“I would appreciate the help da’len.” The little one perked up at the name, perhaps she hadn’t heard such fondness, “I am not quite sure how to do my hair either.”

That got the young one's attention and sent her off into a flurry of excitement as she leaped for the dresses in the boudoir and found a color to match Lorelai’s eyes then began the task of styling her hair. Some of the waves were gathered from her face into a bun and then tasteful hair hang loose framing her looks. 

“Oh it’s beautiful Eslina, thank you.” The girl beamed with pride at the compliment and helped in wrapping her feet. 

“The Master is waiting for you, Mistress.” Eslina smiled leading the way. 

They walked past the great hall and up to the balcony above it where Vivienne had stayed. The table was long and filled with food and drink that didn’t look like alcohol, in fact, she didn’t smell any wine even near the table. The meats were glistening with what she could guess was honey glaze from its smell. Sweetbreads, fruits could only imagine. The seats were not seats, pillows large fluffy as the table was set low. She sat upon the seats and smiled at the feeling, it was as if she hadn’t even sat on the floor. 

Fen’harel smelled her long before she walked completely up the stairs. Crystal grace, lavender, and spring rain danced in the air about her mixing with his own touch. He guessed it was from the mark ;however strong, perhaps she’d had it for a while and that’s why the scent had so much presence. He found an odd satisfaction in how comfortable she seemed as she sat, her eyes taking in the food having not even noticed him yet. When she was settled those bewitching eyes ensnared his and a soft smile graced her pink lips. 

“You seemed to be enjoying the garden when we walked by.” so the conversation would be civil, she thought.

Black Pawn moves.

“It’s...I've never seen it’s likeness.” Lorelai admitted picking up some meat and taking in the sweet taste.

“Oh? You’ve seen many gardens then?” He was trying to note where she came from. 

“Only wild ones that grow naturally. But ensnared in stone or the natural divit of tree roots? One can only guess.” White pawn takes Black pawn, for all his cunning he’d have to work to win their game.

“A riddle speaker then? Perhaps I shall think of a name for you as you’ve not given me one. I think it unfair that though that you know mine.” It was an abrupt question, slightly aggressive to ask her a name again. 

Black Bishop moves. 

“I never asked for an actual name, you ceded that on your own. It wasn’t I who cast my titles out so quickly.” She smirked tasting a rich fruit that caused her to moan, she hadn’t realized how hungry she actually was until now. 

White Queen moves. Check.

If he was to be so bold than she would match the animal in him. 

“You...have a point. Now let us feast and tell me more of yourself. I’ll settle for little things if it so pleases you little fox.” She grinned at the nickname, little may be an insult but fox was a fond title, she’d allow it. 

She spoke of her favorite color, her favorite food, the question of if lilies could be braided into your hair in a fashion as to use the lilly pad for a hat. She thanked him for the dresses and their beauty although admitted they were a tad tight. 

“On that, you’ll have to find it in your heart to forgive me. I’m not accustomed to hosting bearing women.” She found a double certainty in those words, young, reckless men had a penchant for siring children but to know that so far Solas had not made her feel lighter, “If you feel up to the task we could visit The Crossroads.”

Her face lit up in excitement, she’d seen the very walkways deserted in the future filled with nothing not even spirits only broken or corrupted Eluvians. Lorelai nodded eagerly. He offered a sparkling water in a goblet, she smelled no drug or alcohol in it and took a tentative sip, it tasted like winter ice and fresh spring. She had liked it.

Black King moves.

He’s not in Check anymore. 

They spend hours speaking, she notices how it is the same with Solas. Find a subject he enjoys and watch as he gushes with excitement at the opportunity to discuss it. She missed this and could think of no better way to spend the afternoon and into some of the night holding light conversation. Even the silences between them were a comfort. It was after dessert that she yawned and he chuckled at the look. Her ears drawn down, mouth opened in a small ‘o’ and her stretch that gave the relief of popping. 

“It seems I’ve kept you from sleep, ir ables.” She waved her hand dismissively. 

“Don’t be, I enjoyed it and the food. Thank you for being a gracious host.” she stroked at his pride and watched him somehow sit straighter at the compliment, “though I would ask a further favor of you.”

He watched a blush creep across her face, “Might I have help standing?”

He mused at how different it was for her to make him laugh, it was simple and pure as he stood and assisted her. Lorelai clung to his hands, larger than her own as she regained balance. There was no dizziness much to her relief, yet he insisted on walking with her down the stairs to make sure she was able to move better. He was using it as an excuse to speak more on affairs of spirits, he so rarely met anyone as attentive as she. Even Mythal would break his rants at some points. Yet the snow-kissed woman did no such thing, even more, she seemed to share in his enthusiasm. 

“Until tomorrow, little Fox.” she nodded in understanding and found comfort in her room. 

The last thought blooming in her mind was before she shut her eyes. 

‘How odd that her wolves still sang her to sleep.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> da'len - little one
> 
> ir abelas- I'm sorry


	6. Headache

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fen'harel takes Lorelai shopping and in turn gets a headache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for my disappearing act. This chapter can in no way make up for it but maybe you'll find it in your hearts to forgive me? Even just a little? 
> 
> As always critique is appreciated! I have no beta beside google so please be kind and feel free to point out any mistakes I have made!

Fen’harel didn’t sleep. He paced the halls of his home wondering at how she came to be, he had to try and trace the marks origins. He tried to hunt her origins but ended in his own courtyard staring down at the ground breathing in her scent faint, aged yet he’d seen her only today. His orb was sealed under the keep and the doors only opened by his own magic, there was no way she could have slipped in and lay hands on it. He rubbed his forehead lightly, the unfamiliar shouts of a man was just as aged. 

_"I don't know!"_

The echo was distorted, past and yet present? The puzzle was starting to irk him, he was usually able to read people quickly, easily. Trying to deceive a trickster was near impossible, yet her skill was ironed and practiced. He couldn’t find a tick, a mannerism, nothing that seemed routine in her movements. No biting her lower lip, no twitch of her hand, her breath didn’t even seem to speed up when talking to him. Curious and exasperating, he turned from the courtyard you couldn’t stare at a problem as if it would magically solve itself. He needed to occupy his mind and hands the answer would come sooner or later. 

He found himself in the rotunda if he was ever idle he came here, he’d wanted to repaint it lately. Fen’harel refused to linger too long on the past in all things painting most of all. Magic resonated through the walls as the paintings faded leaving plain walls to gaze at, blank slates, worlds of possibilities. The paint twisted, twining and brilliant as it cast the vision of night with stars shining with hues of purple and blues. There was no moon, no need for it. The starlight danced of the lake cradled by crystal grace, the white wolf was slender, small with violet eyes that stared into his soul. The paint dried as quickly as the brush lifted from it’s surface. Long slender fingers traced the wolf’s ear while magic coaxed the creature to ‘life’, the animal shook its fur out and moved to stand in the crystal grace, hiding amongst the plant’s leaves but those eyes. They stared from the darkness, calculated, waiting and vibrant. 

He hadn’t noticed the sun was up and temple awake until a gentle knock caught his attention. His guest looked shocked at the world she stepped into making a slow circle to look at the new painting. The dress was loosely clinging to her, something that would make her comfortable but obviously too big for her. It glinted in the morning light as rays bounced off the fabric. Her hair had been braided deftly from her face the ivory color enchanting. She looked...

“Are you okay?” the question was loaded and yet not at all, she asked it like it was natural, something she’d inquired of before. 

“Fine little Fox. How do you like the painting?” She looked at him with a smirk and trailed her hands over the water swearing she could almost feel the cool of it. 

“They’re amazing. How do you get them to move?” She looked transfixed. 

“The image is enhanced, not the paint or it’s brush. A dash of magic and you have moving paintings.” Fen’harel was proud of things, his paintings were a secret to the other gods and he found he couldn’t be more proud of them when she had said they were amazing, “Are you ready to leave for the Crossroads?” 

Her enthusiasm was tenfold nodding and skirting to the door as if she’d lived here before, knowing exactly where to find the stables, “Fox where are you going?”

Lorelai turned halfway out of the door to the tower where Cullen would reside, “The. . .stables?”

Fen’harel threw back his head in laughter startling the woman as she raised an eyebrow at his obvious delight, “We don’t need the Harts, come.”

He was still chuckling while escorting her through the keep seemingly content to have her near, they were in the gardens when he took her to an Eluvian. It was towering though nestled against the limbs of trees and reach of their roots, statues of wolves howling framed the mirror. It was oddly un-kept or perhaps it was often used? The wolves were covered in green and flowers, different than what she would see in the future. Stepping through the mirror was like a cool breeze caressing her skin, instead of the gloom and desolate roads were filled with color, sound, smells, wonders stretching as far as she could see. 

The emotions played on her face open for anyone to see, Fen’harel chuckled at the woman, “ Where do you want to eat ma hale.”

“I..I don’t know. I’ve...Mythal’s breath this is…” Lorelai’s mouth was pulled up in a wide grin, eyes alight with curiosity and awe. 

“Never seen it’s likeness?” He raised an eyebrow as she stared across the sea of endless commotion. 

“Not this close.” Despite her excitement, she forced herself to remember the game they were playing. 

“Then allow me.” The sensation in her chest was displaced at the grand bow, the Crossroads seemed to part a slight way when he walked through them, “What are you feeling up for, it is morning’s rise after all. There is anything you wish to eat here.”

She bit her lower lip while a hand idly rested on her belly a habit that she didn’t even realize had come about, “What would you suggest?”

He grinned and she felt her knees weaken just slightly, it was rare in her time for such a boyish and playful look to cross Solas’ face with the constant of Corypheus looming over the Inquisition. She felt odd comfort in the calloused hand helping lead the woman through the crowd to a small resting place. The smell of salted pork, sweet rolls, and dashes of peppermint paraded in the air about it she didn’t think about picking a slice of the pork and a single roll while he not only picked four rolls but a peppermint with it. 

“Need I tell you that those pants are not going to grow with you?” It was a playful jest one that he snorted at. 

“I move to much for such a thing like this to affect me, I must say Fox that I won’t be able to accompany you the entire day.” The taste of salted pork was delicious on her tongue but she still ‘hm’ed in question, “I must speak with a friend over matters.”

“Let me guess, this friend being Mythal and the matters being me?” White pawn moves. 

“It’d be a tragedy for the Lady not to hear of the majestic beauty that I so happened upon.” Black Bishop takes pawn. 

“Sweet talker. You just want to sort out how I stumbled into your garden. Perhaps a spirit helped me, after all I am a majestic beauty.” White Knight moves.  
“You can’t blame my curiosity,” - he bit into his third sweet roll- “but you have a point. A spirit of mystique had certainly dropped you into my lap. So to speak.”

Black Knight moves. Fen’harel’s eyes were fixed on her, lips up curved to show familiar canines. She’d traced them with her tongue before, they’d bitten into her lower lip then collarbone and lower and lower still. He watched a blush rise on her cheeks and did not try to suppress the sound of satisfaction at the sight. He enjoyed getting a rise out of her, she was becoming quite the puzzle.

“Curiosity killed the cat.” White Queen moves. 

“True but I am not cat. Besides does not satisfaction always bring it back?” Black Pawn moves. 

Lorelai chuckled and nodded, it was good to stretch her mind like this. It had felt like a lifetime that last she’d even toyed with the notion of playing with fire like this. They finished the breakfast and he helped her move. It was interesting the way he followed her, almost afraid she’d slip. Then again it was his first time dealing with a pregnant woman, the awkwardness of it was a breath of fresh air. She couldn’t help but wonder if Solas would act the same despite the twisting pain it caused in her chest. 

The first thing he offered was to find her new clothing, “Anything you want, don’t think on the cost.”

“You’re going to regret that, just you wait.” She snickered walking in the open stalls and stores, her fingers gliding of the different fabrics in a careful study. 

She favored dark blues, greens and browns. The weight the fabrics were odd in her grip, some seemed like air, others heavy and dense enough to weather a harsh winter without the excess bulk. Silks and cottons and satins with laces. He watched, idly leaning on a post as she flitted from one fabric to another hands reaching to touch everything she could letting out soft gasps and ahs at their feel. A chuckle rose unbidden at the almost excited gesture while she pulled what was white fur and draped it over herself burying her face in the fluff. 

After the fur came more fabric, and more, and more as the tailor took measurements. The woman was old, hair pulled away from her face, slouched with paper like wrinkled parchment and a smile that was warm enough to replace the sun. 

“Tell me child how far along are you?” Her voice was warm as she pulled up a fabric in front of the woman’s belly. 

She smiled and ran fingers across her belly, “Four moons now.”

“Hmm, not long ‘tall. From the way you’re standing you’ve two don’t you?” Lorelai raised an eyebrow at the question, “ I bore seven babes into this world, two times I had twins. My name’s Maggie dear and from the looks of you, I say you’ll be in here often with how much them babies are going to grow.”

She laughed faintly, the sound traveling on the wind as the man watched them speak, she was distracted and would be fine if he left to search out Mythal. The thought solidified when the Tailor Maggie had sat the woman down and began to show her wrapping to match with her fabrics that no doubt would turn to loose dresses and shirts with an assortment of pants.

“Fox, take this, it’ll allow you anything you want.” She nodded at him as Maggie took the wolf shaped pendant while he turned on heel the trickster slipped amongst the ménage of people, weaving through them with practiced grace.

Mythal would be in her library surrounded by parchment and the scent of lavender that seemed to linger on her skin. The library was quiet, calm with a spiral stretching ever high. She’d said it was so she could land on the top if ever needed, he thought it was that she liked to perch on things but either way it lead to the building winding upwards. The stone of the floors were clean the cases touching the bottom of the platforms creating the second story and so on all the way up were stacked full. Mythal was reading at the bottom of the staircase, sitting on one of the steps. 

“You’re late old friend, I'd thought you’d come much soon considering the company you’ve taken.” She knew?

Of course she knew, “Do your wandering eyes fall on only me?”

The woman laughed looking up from her book at a disgruntled god, “You do get in trouble the most out of our group.”

He sighed and sat down looking at the book she was reading, a tome pertaining to magical phenomenon. So, she had either felt the fade ravel around the woman last night or someone had seen and told her, he didn’t believe in coincidence when it came to the Dragon Mother.  

“I didn’t do this. Honest!” -he raised his hands at the accusing look- “The Fox actually dropped out of the fade on her own, I swear.”

“Mm, I believe you.” She looked back to her book, marking various places in it’s contents. 

“She’s pregnant.” The book closed and she gave the man her full attention, “No, they’re not mine. The woman is the definition of enigma though, I don’t even know her name.” 

“Oh?”

“I may have gotten...cocky with my titles?” Mythal put her hand to her chest at the words, “I know, but now she won’t tell me anything straightly. It’s like talking in circles with her.”

“How do you like that dose of your own medicine?” He scowled at her while the woman chuckled, “Don’t lie as if it isn’t fun, I’ve never seen you so invested in a woman that you’d come to me before asking for something.”

“She is...unique, witty, powerful, and she even encourages my ramblings. It’s a little scary to be honest. And her will, did you know she snapped at me? Not physically of course, and she looked like the epitome of rebellion. "His shoulders dropped and his eyes rolled, “I just need a little help. How do you even deal with a pregnant woman, much less one that appeared out of thin air.”

Mythal began to hand him books and personal insight, growling every once in awhile at the inappropriate comment until a loud crash and crackle out in the street caught their attention. The sound was booming and reminded him of the same sensation of prickling that had been shielding Lorelai. The mark. He scurried out the door followed swiftly by Mythal. 

Lorelai had bought rolls of fabric with Maggie’s helpful eye, wraps for her feet and actual information about pregnancy from the old woman that sat and sewn a loose white dress swiftly for the her. The woman regaled her captivated audience with tales of her children and grandchildren until the dress was done and fitted over Lorelai. 

“Oh Maggie, it’s…” It was long enough to cover her feet, silk against her skin with sheer sleeves yet felt light as a feather resting over the baby bump, “I love it.”   
The old woman laughed and hugged the girl promising more fitting clothes upon her arrival at the castle, “Now get you gone dear, I’d put good use to that pendant were I you.”

Lorelai smiled and left stepping into the market, jewelry, books, food, clothes, braid weaver's, furniture, everything she could think of resided on the aisle passing by her. Each time she walked to a vendor’s stand she was shocked at the sudden tact they spoke to her in, regarding her too highly. She finally understood after a few times. Not only was the pendant resting bluntly against her chest but she had no markings. A fact that she often forgot before passing a refectory. 

The woman made true to abuse the power, heavily insisting that they treat her as equal, speaking to them kindly. It was easy to forget in the upheave of glory that her people were still slaves. The merchants were put off by her disposition but followed her example. Lorelai picked many jewels that caught her eye while she traveled further into the market. A loud clanking caught her attention swiftly. Chains. 

There was a stage with Elvhen being shuffled on and off, prices being called and set. An auction. The Elvhen were being auctioned and bought by other Elvhen though they were more well dressed and even seemed to regard their own kin with distaste. The slaves were dirty. Bruised and battered. Young, old, middle aged, it didn’t seem to matter. She was drawn to the noise with fury rattling in her bones. She shook with the rage. She didn’t need to draw attention, she didn’t know the consequences of any of her actions and that made her despair. 

The child was three summers old, maybe, being shoved up onto the auction box roughly, he cried out as his head was yanked backwards using his hair. The crowd was stunned by a young almost fragile woman stomping up the platform in white, the slaver took a step back shocked as she marched straight to him. It was the gait of a predator that made him move, he could feel the ice shifting around her, some passing water in the air even shimmered as she stalked forwards. Without warning the woman shoved him aside and scooped up the child resting the dirty urchin on her hip and promptly turned on heel. 

The slaver yelped, stumbling from the harsh shove, “How dare you! That’s merchandise that is!”

“Not anymore.” Lorelai practically snarled at him and continued to walk down the steps with the child quivering in her hold, “And I’ll not pay for him like he is.”  
“Yes you will or the Gods save you, woman! Stop and turn around.” The demand was harsh and resounding and when she refused a crack filled the air next to her. 

The child cried into her side as the whip brushed against her hair, “I said stop.”

Lorelai gently eased the child next to her, “Stay behind me.” and turned. 

The magic was chaotic as it writhed in the air around her, shards of ice forming around her, “Stop, demands, how dare you. Look at yourself, you are selling your own kin. Your own people!”

“They are slaves! Merchandise and you’d do well to remember that and your place wench!” The whip lashed out, striking against her cheek. 

It hurt, her eyes watered and men moved forwards, they were guards of some sorts. The power in her blood finally spilled out, she hadn’t meant to lose control of it. The fade tore open in a familiar crackling the sensation of pinpricks spiked up her arm from the mark. The creatures that snapped and snarled from the sliver of the veil she’d torn up were haggard things. Wolves or what had once been them. Their flesh was dangling off of their bones, the meat showing through the torn off bits of fur. They stood shoulders flush with the bottom of her ribcage. Three of them snapping and snarling, claws black, jaws hanging open dripping with black ichor and razor sharp teeth. The scent of rotting flesh perfumed the air about them as they stalked around her. 

The child had buried his face into her dress, clutching to her leg. As she moved so did the wolves. The guards were forced to stay away, each time they dared close one of the abnormally tall wolves would snap dangerously close to their legs. They were protectors and killers while she pressed forwards, the slaver yelling in fear before one of the animals leapt through the air catching his throat in it’s teeth. 

The animal didn’t bite down but instead pinned him, “While you’re laying there try to listen.” 

The man whimpered until the wolf snarled, what was left of the fur on its hackles raised quickly silencing him, “You will release any remaining slaves into my care and ask nor gain a single coin for them. Do you understand?” The man tried to sputter that turned into a whimper of fear. 

All of the Crossroads halted under her words if they hadn’t already, “You will not sell flesh again else you’ll meet my companions jaws and they won’t hesitate to tear your throat out nor will I stop them.”

One of the wolves at her back snarled, she felt the heat of someone that had dared too close but the animal spirit hadn’t attacked, “When I said the pendant would give you anything you want I didn’t have this in mind Fox.”

Lorelai glared. White Knight moves. 

She looked over her shoulder at Fen’harel, surprisingly he wasn’t angry, instead his voice was deep like when he was in thought as his expression was blank, calculating the next move, “They’re slaves, Fox. They’ll have to be paid for.”

Black Knight moves. 

“This is wrong and you know it. They are people, not slaves to toy with, they do not deserve this.” - he made to open his mouth before she snarled- “Can you not think of yourself as a common slave, put yourself in their perspective. You should protect them instead of trade their flesh like worn merchandise.” A wolf snapped at the god.

White Queen moves. 

Lorelai not only had an audience with the commotion she had caused but a glance to the last of the slaves showed their fear and perhaps a sliver of hope. She hadn’t meant this, she hadn’t meant to do anything. She was altering everything and it was going to destroy her future. Their future. Yet; in that she found herself steeled. She would not budge. 

“The merchant will be put out of business, his family will starve without the sales.” Black Knight moves, her words were harsh and defined but he saw her waver. 

He had a point no matter her fury, she took a deep breath. She wasn’t thinking clearly. Fen’harel had made a good argument but she couldn’t stand by, she wouldn’t. 

“He will be payed only one percentage of the accumulative cost.” She turned back to the man that lay wide eyed under the wolf’s clutch black ichor having painted his neck and the ground below him, “I suggest you find a different path.”

White Pawn moves. 

Lorelai returned her narrowed eyes to Fen’harel. There was danger lurking in those depths of hers. He had no doubt this woman would kill if she hadn’t already and would do so easily to this man. Damned the consequences. He sighs in defeat, the only victory in sparing the man’s life and if he were careful about it selling slaves in another city or perhaps from the wetting of his trousers, never again. 

Black Pawn moves. 

The wolves are still snarling as they sink into the ground, leaving nothing but disturbed earth and dirt in their wake. Even the scent fades. Fen’harel is not only shocked but impressed. Yes, his mark had flared brilliantly to life but to take form and attack like it had done was...remarkable. Even at the cost of what she’d done. Lorelai looked...ethereal in the moment, staring down the very god that took her in without fear. 

The slaver scrambled to release the remaining seven slaves that hadn’t been bought, Lorelai walked to them with a calming hand in the boy’s hair that still hid in the folds of her dress. The slaves trembled upon her shadow and she sighed her eyes sad at how broken they’d become. Instead she eased herself to the ground, the slaves didn’t look at her. 

“I’m Lorelai, I’m here to take care of you. I will never harm nor command you in anyway. I swear.” She offered a hand and a calm, tender, voice. 

The first slave looked up at her, her face was changed from the furious might it had been when she defended them. Now she was smiling soft and gentle, offering protection and a hand, offering her name, kneeling in the dust. The elderly woman took it first, then the two young men, the teenager girl six and ten winters old, two that look suspiciously like twin women in their middle age and a boy of ten winters.

Lorelai stood, the slaves helped her. They all held to some part of her, a sleeve, a skirt, a hand. She almost glided past with the now entourage, the Crossroads stood stunned. 

“Haven’t you all posses wares to be selling?” With the sentence everyone suddenly flowed back into place, yet giving her a wide berth. 

Mythal watched, one hand curled in a fist under her chin the other supporting her arm by resting on her elbow while coming to stand next to Fen’harel. 

“Unique indeed, Fen’harel. I wonder, is it fate that she fell out of the fade or simply chance. I can’t tell.” He looked to her with a sigh and rubbed his temples, “Either way I do believe your headache has just begun.”


	7. Writer's Notice

I apologize for the lack of any...well anything! Mental Illness is an annoying and tricky thing to deal with, I WILL be continuing this but first a bit of re-writing is in order for it. I can't tell you when I'll update again only that I will try despite my frustrating issues. Thank you so much for reading this story and once again I apologize for my absence on this.


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